


I Object

by Monkeygirl77



Series: Grumpy (Sometimes) But Kind Raphael [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abner Needs a Hug, Gadreel Needs a Hug (Supernatural), Good Big Brother Raphael, If one disagrees it's thrown out, Michael Being an Asshole (Supernatural), Michael Being an Idiot (Supernatural), Raphael calls Michael out on his shit, Raphael is about the facts, Raphael objects to Michaels sentence for Gadreel and Abner, The Council needs to have an unanimous vote for a sentence to be imposed, The facts dictate his decisions when it comes to these things, Unlike Michael, Who judges people based on his emotions, which surprises everyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:42:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28809072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monkeygirl77/pseuds/Monkeygirl77
Summary: Everyone knew, everyone, that judgement and sentence could not be passed unless the whole of the Council was unanimous with the declaration. Never, in a thousand years, had anyone ever thought that Raphael would stand opposed to Michael, it never happened before, the Healer always seemingly agreed with his sentences, this was….this was new to them.
Relationships: Abner & Gadreel & Raphael (Supernatural)
Series: Grumpy (Sometimes) But Kind Raphael [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128185
Comments: 10
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

He sits in his Throne, only half listening to the words of his enraged brother, lounging against the right armrest, holding his head up with his fingers, focusing on the young angels kneeling before them, trying to sputter out their story, cut off by his brother every other word, the youths were on the verge of tears, quivering where they knelt, terrified of the repercussions of the events that hung over their shoulders. There was no evidence being displayed, no questions being asked, no witnesses called on. He himself passed judgement on the facts, not on emotion, as he brother was, he wanted evidence of wrong doing, evidence of betrayal, he wanted the story there to be told, he wanted to know _everything_ , before he passed judgement.

It’s when his brother imposes their punishment, that he contributes to the conversation. “I object.” All eyes turn to him, those of the guards standing behind the youths, the youths kneeling before them, his older brother, but he stares ahead at the two kneeling before him, sobs tearing from them, thanking him as best as they could as their sobs overtake them, and he sits up straighter. “I object to your judgement and sentence.”

Everyone knew, _everyone_ , that judgement and sentence could not be passed unless the whole of the Council was unanimous with the declaration. Never, in a thousand years, had anyone ever thought that Raphael would stand opposed to Michael, it never happened before, the Healer always seemingly agreed with his sentences, this was….this was _new_ to them.

“ _What_?” Michael stares at his brother in shock. “You _object_?” He shakes his head firmly. “You _can’t_ object, I won’t allow you to!”

“Oh, but I _can_.” Raphael turns away from the two sobbing together before him to look at his brother. “It’s written in the bylaws, the _Council_ must make a _unanimous_ decision when it comes to passing judgement and placing sentence, and I object.” He hums softly. “I don’t know about you, but _I’ve_ read the bylaws _very_ thoroughly, Father wrote them for a purpose, and _this_ , is that purpose, if you attempt to block my vote, the power embedded in the bylaws, written by Father Himself, will strip you of your title and position in the Council, automatically nulling _any_ sentence you’ve imposed on _anyone_.” He returns his gaze to the two before him. “I object. How can we pass judgement and impose a sentence without knowing the facts?”

Michael seethes. “There is only _one_ fact.”

“There is _always_ more than _one_ fact.” He shakes his head. “And, I will _not_ impose my agreement in your sentence without knowing the facts.” The thirdborn looks over the poor youths heads to one of the guards behind them. “I want to see Barbonah.”

The guard nods and turns to make his leave, to retrieve the messenger that he sought after, and he returns his gaze to the two before him, begging for his mercy between sobs.

“Raphael, this is _ridiculous_!” The oldest snarls at him. “They allowed the serpent in the Garden! They’re the reason Father left! They’re the reason Lucifer was cast out!”

He heaves an exasperated sigh, this is why he rarely interacted with the others, preferring to stay within his own flock, and pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment. “Michael, my brother, you and I both know, none of us can make _Father_ do anything He doesn’t already want to do.” He lowers his hand, tapping his fingers against the arm of his throne. “Lucifer was cast out because of _his_ actions, not anyone else’s, do you _honestly_ expect that two angels as young as them would be able to overpower the second _Archangel_ in creation when his mind was set on the actions he wanted to take.” He turns to look at the elder once more. “If you believe they would have managed to _stop_ him on their _own_ from doing something _he_ wanted to do, then you’re a fool, and not _fit_ to lead the Host.”

Michael narrows his eyes. “Are you saying you’d usurp the throne?”

 _“No!”_ It’s rare for the thirdborn to lose his temper, but it does happen, and he rises from his throne quickly, turning on the other Archangel. “That is _not_ what I’m saying! What I’m _saying_ , is that you are a _fool_ , if you _think_ these two young angels, _their_ power _nothing_ close to being compared to ours, _could_ stop an _Archangel_ from doing anything!” He takes a step forward, electricity sparking off his fingers as he jabs a finger at the older Archangel. “What I’m saying, is that we _taught_ them all that they can _trust_ us beyond measure, Lucifer has turned _himself_ into a _deceiver_ , he would _not_ be above using the trust they have in _us_ to his advantage!” He steps closer, closing the distance between them slowly but surely, and jabs a finger into the older Archangel’s chest. “What I’m saying, is that you are _blinded_ by your emotions, you’re not placing _them_ on trial, you’re placing _yourself_ on trial, you’re blaming them for _your_ mistakes! _You’re_ the one who turned Lucifer into who he is now! _You’re_ the one who betrayed us! _You’re_ the one who let him in the Garden! There were _warning_ signs, he wasn’t _subtle_ about his intentions, and you were the one who chose to _ignore_ them! You were _warned_ on _multiple_ occasions of what Lucifer was intending to do, and _you_ were the one who blew them off! It’s not _them_ you’re angry with, it’s _you_ , you’re angry at _yourself_ , because you _know_ you made a _fatal_ error in judgement! You’re taking your fury out on them, you’re not righting a wrong, you’re placing blame, shifting your shortcomings onto someone _else_ , these two young angels did _nothing_ wrong, and you _know_ it!” Raphael glares at him heatedly, daring him to say a word, but Michael remains silent. “And, if it came down to _you_ or _them_ , I would pick them, _always_ them, because _that_ is what a _good_ leader does! _You_ are no leader, Michael, you are a _dictator_ , you see _enemies_ where there are _friends_ , you see _evil_ where there is _good_ , you see _betrayal_ where there is _loyalty_. And, since you asked, I’ll be kind and inform you, if the safety of our family meant removing you from power, I would do so, in a _heartbeat_ , because _they_ come first, _every_ time!” He jabs him in the chest one last time. “So, _yes_ , I _object_.”

And he turns to return to his throne, waiting in silence for the guard to return with who he’d sent him for, aggravated, his brother was one of the few who can always manage to aggravate him, and he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, to calm himself, and takes a moment to collect himself, opening his eyes at the sound of the doors to the throne room opening.

The guard escorts the messenger in, Barbonah is nervous, his hands shaking as he’s guided to stand before them, in front of the accused, and he smiles at him, in an attempt to alleviate his nerves. “Hello, Barbonah.”

The messenger licks his lips nervously, turning his gaze from his fuming brother over to him, and he waves slightly in greeting. “H—Hi, sir.”

“Please, there’s no need to be so formal, call me Raph, everyone does.” Barbonah nods faintly. “I just have one question for you, can you try your best to answer it, I know it’s been a few days since the… _incident_.” The younger angel nods slightly. “Barbonah, you were sent to inform Gadreel and Abner to not allow Lucifer to enter the Garden, were you not?”

He nods lightly. “Y—Yes, I was, s—Raph.”

The Healer nods lightly. “Barbonah, did you ever make it there to inform them?” He gulps softly as his face pales. “It’s alright, little one, please answer my question.”

Barbonah jerks his head slightly, indicating he had not informed them. “N—No.”

Michael snarls at the messenger. “You—”

He holds a hand up to silence him. “Barbonah, why didn’t you make it there to inform them?”

The Messenger licks his lips again. “One of the fallen, I was flying over, on my way to inform them, and they threw a javelin, it pierced my wing and I fell…I tried to get back up to get to them to inform them, I swear, but I couldn’t, they grounded me.”

He frowns in concern. “Did you ever get your wing tended to?” Barbonah shakes his head slightly. “Very well, you’re free to go, I want you to go straight to my Infirmary and get your wing tended to, and I will be there shortly to see to it myself as well, alright?” The young messenger looks over to the fuming Archangel. “It’s alright, little one,” the youths gaze turns back to him and he nods lightly. “You can go, as I said, straight to my Infirmary, wing injuries are a very serious matter.”

The messenger bows, breathing an exhale of relief, thanking him softly, and turns quickly, making his leave as quick as he can manage.

Raphael nods. “I object to this sentence, I clear you both of all charges, you’re free to go.”

Michael glares at him, he knows he is, he can feel it.

But he ignores it, rising from his throne when it appears they’re unable to move on their own, rubbing his robes down as he does, and steps forward, making his way down the short incline to the floor below, and squats in front of the two sentries, still sobbing, thanking him as best as they can through the force of their sobs. “It’s alright, little ones.” He curls his arms around them, pulling them into an embrace, and they sob against his shoulders. “It’s alright, come, lets stand.” He rises slowly, pulling them up with him, and guides them around gently. “Come with me, little ones, it’s alright.”

Gadreel and Abner clutch at him, as though if they let go, he’ll rescind his objection, or Michael will attempt to override him, moving with him as best as they can.

It’s a slow walk to his Infirmary, as they still struggle with their cries, slowly calming the farther away they get from the throne room and his blinded older brother. Guiding them up the stairs, he enters his Infirmary with them pressed against his sides, eyes searching for the messenger he’d told to come here, and nods when he spots him, getting his wing tended to just as he had ordered.

“Come, little ones.” He guides them to two empty beds, closest to his desk, so he can keep his eye on them after this traumatic experience. “Let’s get you two in bed, you both could do with a good sleep.”

Raphael guides one down in one bed and the other down in the second, carefully pulling their boots off, and pulls the blankets over them. “You get a good sleep, I’ll be right there,” he gestures to the desk on Abner’s other side. “If you need me, just call out, alright?”

The both of them nod at him, and he gives them both a smile, patting them on the belly as he stands from the chair he’d sat himself in. “Very good, and tomorrow we’ll work on those stunning smiles you both have, you could both do with a good laugh.”


	2. Chapter 2

They wake slowly, their minds automatically supplying that they were laying on the cots in the Prison, surrounded by prisoners, the Warden walking slowly down the hall, so their surprise in genuine when their eyes flutter open, they stare at each other, and the soft buzz of the busy Infirmary curls around them, everything that had happened the night before was real, their sentence had really been dropped, their charges cleared, the Healer bringing them here to rest, it was all really real.

“Oh, good, you two are awake.” They both turn at his voice, and he smiles at them, stepping forward between their beds, setting a tray down on the table between the heads of their beds. “We’ll get you two some breakfast and then into the bath, you’ve been wearing those robes for the last few days, it was a week after you were taken into custody before your trial come to head, you two need a good bath and a change of clothes, then I’ll look you over for anything that needs tending to.”

Gadreel merely nods, taking the bowl of porridge held out to him, and Abner takes his, but finds his voice. “Why?”

Raphael turns to look at the older sentry, sitting on the edge of his bed. “ _Why_ what, little one?”

The former sentry licks his lips. “Why did you defend us?”

“Because, what my brother was doing was wrong, you hadn’t done anything wrong.” He brushes the younger’s curls back. “I will not see an innocent man hanged, so to say.” The Archangel taps the edge of his bowl. “Eat up, we’ve got a day ahead of us.”

…

The washroom of the Infirmary is slightly overwhelming, in the fact that it was so pretty, it was simple, but pretty.

Raphael had said to take as long as they needed, there was no rush, and to come back out when they were ready.

It took a few minutes of gentle urging to get his younger brother to wash on the other side, a short way away from where he was washing. The water was warm, steamy, but not overly so, it was soothing to the tense muscles, and he simply laid in the water for a long while after he bathed, it was nice.

Abner looks over when he hears a splash, and chuckles softly, his younger brother having just fallen backwards into the water. They dress silently, and he holds his hand out to his younger brother, Gadreel curls his fingers around his hand, and he leads them forward, towards the entrance.

The sun shines brightly through the windows along the walls, the Archangel’s back is facing them, seated at his desk, working on something they can’t see, but he turns, undoubtedly feeling their approach, and he smiles at them, rising from his seat. “You were in there for quite some time.”

Gadreel squeezes his hand and so he speaks for the both of them. “Sorry, it was just nice.”

“No worries, no need to apologize.” The Healer waves his apology away. “I told you to take as long as you needed. You were both rather tense, a nice long hot bath would do you both some good.” Raphael turns, gesturing for them to follow him back to their beds. “Let me look you over, come.”

He leads his younger brother forward, Gadreel’s seemingly still stuck a sort of shock, his mind having trouble wrapping around the fact that their sentence had been commuted and their charges dropped, it worried him, but he’d give it another day, it had only been last night after all, since this entire thing had come to a head.

Abner blinks in surprise at the sight of their beds, not how they had left them, pushed together now, extra blankets, extra pillows, and on the side tables, on either side of their conjoined beds, sat a mug of steaming _something_.

They sit on the edge of the bed as they’re instructed to, still holding each other’s hands, Gadreel doesn’t want to let go, and he won’t let go until he does. Abner’s the one who points out the cut on his brother’s forehead, the younger angel has seemingly gone selectively mute, he doesn’t blame him, it was Gadreel who had the most to lose, who stood facing the worse of the two sentences Michael had tried to impose. The Archangel seemingly knows this small detail, as he turns to him, after bandaging the cut on the youth’s forehead, inquiring on if there was anything else that needed to be tended to when it came to the younger sentry, and he shakes his head, they hadn’t been there long enough, Sampson had only just prepared their intake and scheduled their first session when they’d been dragged to the Throne Room for sentencing.

Gadreel had been terrified, and Sampson had known he was, and made sure to tell him everything that was going to happen _when_ he came back.

The cruel guard, who stood as fourth in command, taking over command of the Prison when both Thaddeus and Theo were away on business and Sabaoth wasn’t available, was a cruel individual, he reveled in the pain and misery he could cause to the unfortunate prisoners left in his care while their Wardens and the head guard were away, there would be so much to mend and clean when they returned from their trip in Hell. 

And, as it was, Thaddeus and Theo _were_ away on business with Sabaoth, and weren’t scheduled to come back for another few months, so much suffering would be had in that span of time, it was bittersweet, the position they were in, their trial having been dropped, sweet that they were free of Sampson’s cruelty, and bitter that so many others were left to his wicked imagination.

Raphael smiles at them, when there’s nothing else that needs cared for, and pats their knees lightly. “Well, that’s it for now, lunch will be along in a short while, it wouldn’t been a bad idea to get a bit more rest.”

Gadreel tugs on his hand and Abner nods to his silent command. “Raph…Raph where will we go now?”

The Archangel rises from his seat and reaches out to pet his curls back. “I think you’ll stay here with me until my brother gets his head out of his ass. You’re safe in here, I fear if I let you go out on your own, he’ll ignore my objection and take you both _there_.” He shakes his head, reaching over to pet the younger’s curls lightly, as though to soothe his nerves. “So, I think you’ll stay with me to keep that from happening.” He withdraws his hand. “Oh, and, I made a call, if I were you two, I’d be expecting visitors in a short while, they were mighty worried when I told them what had been going on, and said they’d be coming back immediately.” The sound of boots thumping against the stone flooring interrupts him and he looks up, smiling lightly. “Ah, here they are now.”

They both turn to see whom he’d been talking about, and their eyes widen, _they_ weren’t supposed to be back yet, they still had another half a year, at least, before the work that had sent them away was finished.

Thaddeus and Theo are jogging down the seemingly impossibly long aisle, down their way, and when they’re close enough, Gadreel let’s go of his hand in favor of darting around the bed for the older Warden and throws himself at him when he’s close enough. Thaddeus catches him, pulling him up into his arms, holding on to him as much as the younger is holding on to him in return.

Abner tries to refrain from doing so, but when Theo’s in range, he jumps up, throwing himself at the Co-Warden.

The Healer smiles at them and makes his leave, trusting that they’re in good hands, and heads off to check in on the others.

“Are you guys, alright?” The Warden sets the younger sentry on his feet, pulling him away slightly, eyeing him closely for any signs of injury, and frowns at the bandage on the youth’s temple. “Grasshopper, what happened here?”

Gadreel shakes his head lightly. “I just hit my head.”

His eyes search his face for any tells of a lie and when he finds none, he pulls him back into his embrace, curling around him as much as he can.

“Raph told us about what happened,” Theo pushes Abner back slightly to look him over too. “We came as soon as we heard, did anything happen, did anyone harm you?”

The older sentry shakes his head and smiles up at him. “No, he didn’t have time, he’d just finished our intake when we were taken to our trial.”

Gadreel presses himself closer to his oldest brother, clutching at him just a bit more. “It was so horrible, Thaddy, he told me what he was going to do when I came back. I was so scared. I was so sure I was going back. I started crying and he said….he said..”

“You guys need to find a new fourth in command for when you’re both gone.” Abner curls in closer around the Co-Warden, taking comfort in the arms wrapped around him, the chin resting on the top of his head, the hand curled around the back of his head. “Sampson’s wrong. He’s no good. He’s _wrong_.”

Thaddeus frowns lightly, scratching at the back of his little grasshopper’s head. “Sampson’s my head guard, under Sabaoth obviously, he has the upmost respect, why’s he wrong?”

“It’s a façade, Thaddy, it’s a big façade.” The older sentry manages to get out after searching for the right words. “He’s cruel, he’s evil, he relishes in the pain and misery he causes, _everyone_ in there is in bad shape, Thaddy, he’s cast a dark cloud over _your_ guys Prison, people whisper about it in terror. You have to kick him out. Put him in Solitary. He’s no good.”

The Warden shares a glance with his Co-Warden and Theo nods firmly, Abner’s never been known to make up such accusatory stories, he believes him. “Well, it’s a good thing we sent Sabaoth there in our stead, if what you say is true, and I have no doubts on your conviction, then he’ll start righting things again.”

Theo nods above him, Abner feels it. “And, we’ll look into Sampson, what you’re telling us is highly concerning.”

“But, right now,” they both push them back. “We’re more worried about you two, what happened, what was your sentence?”

Gadreel doesn’t say anything, and Thaddeus frowns lightly, when the younger angel curls back into him, seemingly coming to the realization that he’d seemingly chosen to go selectively mute for the time being, whatever Sampson had told him, it had to have been traumatizing, so he curls around him again in turn.

Abner looks up at them both, both Wardens looking down at him for an answer, when it seems one isn’t going to be forth coming from the other. “We weren’t sentenced, or charged, Michael declared them, but,” he turns to look over at the Archangel some ways away talking to another patient, the messenger that had come just before them last night, his wing injury seemed to be a bit more serious, or he was concerned that Michael might try to take it out on him too, and he was staying here for the same reason they were. “Raph objected, he called on the messenger that was supposed to tell us about Lucifer, and then he said we were cleared of all charges and we were free to go, but we were crying really hard, so he helped us come here.”

“Well, if what you’re saying about Sampson is true,” Theo presses a kiss to his forehead. “Then, we’re most certainly relieved that Raph objected.”

The Warden nods, pressing a kiss to the top of the grasshopper’s head. “Relieved indeed.” He rubs Gadreel’s back gently. “Come on, let’s get back in bed, we’ll lay with you.”

…

Raphael returns to them some time later, with a tray for lunch, sandwiches, fruit, and juice, and smiles as he sets the tray down on Gadreel’s side table, and takes a moment to watch, wondering how long this had been going on.

Thaddeus was sitting at the end of Gadreel’s bed, his arm curled around his right ankle, threading his even famous feather between his toes, making the younger sentry squeal with laughter, he must be holding him down, because his left foot twitches, but other wise stays in place.

Theo is sitting on the other side, at Abner’s side, the top of the sentry’s robes pushed up, twirling the tip of his feather in his belly button, smiling at the younger angel’s squeals of laughter.

He claps his hands lightly and both Wardens turn to look at him. “Well, carry on for a few more minutes, then let them eat their lunch, if you want to pick up after they’re finished, you’re more then welcome to.”


	3. Chapter 3

They’d promised to come back after they got things settled in the Prison, Gadreel had been reluctant to let Thaddeus go, the Warden promises to come back after supper, and wraps his jacket around him comfortingly.

Theo ruffles his curls and promises to return after supper as well, Abner’s not as clingy as Gadreel is, though he can’t blame him, Gadreel had been heading for the worst of Sampson’s creativity. He lifts his arm as they make their leave, the younger sentry scooting closer and ducking under his arm.

“They’ll be back, baby brother,” he kisses the top of his head. “They never say things they don’t mean.”

…

Theo’s better at containing his emotions then Thaddeus is, anyone who knows the two Wardens know this, the prisoners come up to the bars of their cells, some jump, some crawl, when they hear the older Warden curse loudly, knowing that he was supposed to be away, both of them were, something of which Sampson took every opportunity to remind them of. But seeing them there, standing just beyond the doors, looking up and down the hall, fills them with a sense of comfort, Sampson talks a big talk, but everyone knows how terrified he is of the two Wardens. Some start crying at the sight of them standing there, knowing that if they were back, their promised tortures wouldn’t come to fruition again.

Thaddeus curses again, stalking down the hall, his boots stomping softly, ominously, as he stalks down the hall for his office, where they all know the acting ‘Warden’ is.

Theo follows slowly behind him, looking into the cells, at the beaten prisoners, smiling at them soothingly as they watch him walk passed them, coming to grasp the hands of the ones reaching out for him, and he holds their hands firmly in his, whispering soothing promises to them until they’re okay with him letting go to continue on.

Sabaoth steps out of their office at the end of the hall, dragging Sampson out behind him, a bruised eye purpling and a split lip glistening with blood.

“Put him in a cell!” Thaddeus emerges from his office behind them, seething at how his prisoners had been treated, turning to the guards that meet him from the left. “I want half of you to help the prisoners back to the washroom and the other half to clean up their cells while they’re in there, once they’re spotless I want you to get everyone extra pillows and blankets. There’s only a few minors, I want them brought to my office, I want two tubs, scrub brushes, soap, and towels.”

The gathered guards nod, separating to do as they were told, Theo continues his trek down the hall, coming to stand at his Warden’s side.

He turns to him when he hears him curse again, Thaddeus mumbles under his breath. “I could slaughter him for what he did to my prisoners.”

“Let’s not do that now.” He pats the Warden’s belly lightly. “Let’s take care of them first. Then, once they’re settled in, you can slaughter him.”

The older angel grumbles under his breath, but nods. “I can wait. I can be patient.”

“Good.” The younger angel turn around, the both of them watching the guards escort the few minors they have down the hall. “Don’t let them see you angry, as they are right now, it might frighten them.”

“You’re right, you’re always right, I _hate_ it when you’re right.”

Theo snorts and eyes the younglings carefully, they could all do with a good scrubbing, his eyes catch onto one face in particular. “Dama, come’ere.” He opens his arms and the small prisoner breaks through the ones in front of him, darting down the rest of the way to ram into him, and he curls his arms around him firmly, holding him close. “Hey, little guy, are you okay?”

Damabiath presses closer. “I’m okay now that you and Thaddy are back, papa.”

“We’re back, dandelion, we’re not leaving again, I’m sorry that he got to you.” He rubs his hand down the back of his greasy head. “We’re going to scrub you clean, fill your belly up with something warm, and tuck you into bed.” He smiles over his head. “And, tomorrow, I’m going to get me those armpits.”

The young prisoner giggles softly. “I missed you, papa.”

Theo kisses the top of his head. “I missed you too, dandelion.”

Thaddeus claps his hands lightly. “Alrighty, you little trouble makers, let’s get you all scrubbed clean.” He waves them all in, there’s only six of them, so their more then enough room. “Line up now.” He pulls the door closed behind him as they line up for him, noticeably, Damabiath stays in his Co-Warden’s arms. “Do any of you need medical attention?” The six of them shake their heads. “Good, alright,” he points back as Damabiath and over to Sroasha, you two, strip down and into those tubs there.”

The two young prisoners nod, stepping forward to do as they were told, stripping out of their dirty clothes and stepping into the two tubs, sighing in comfort as they sit in the steamy bath. Theo catches the scrub brush Thaddeus tosses to him, and the soap, instructing the other for to sit by the fire until it’s their turn, and they nod, slowly lowering themselves to sit on the soft rug under them.

The Warden lowers himself to rest on his knees behind Sroasha, and he lowers himself behind Damabiath, lathering up the scrub brush, he begins the task of scrubbing down his back. The young prisoner is calm throughout, until it comes to his armpits, to which he bites his lip and shakes his head.

Theo sighs deeply and sits up, raising his right arm forcibly, and scrubs at his armpit, he smiles when the prisoner squeals and tug at his grip, if he scrubs just a few minutes longer then necessary, that’s just for his own personal amusement, and moves on to the other. “Take a deep breath.” The youngling heeds his warning before he pushes him down under water to wet his curls.

It takes them about an hour, but soon enough they’ve got six scrubbed and clean younglings before the fire, they discard their brushes and stand. “Alright, you guys, let’s get you back to your cells, we’ll leave the doors unlocked for a while. We’re going to be staying the night with Gadreel and Abner, but Saba’s staying, so if you need him, just call out, or tell someone to get him, alright?”

The others follow the Warden out, but one stays behind, curling himself around the Co-Warden again. “Papa, I don’t want you to go, not now.”

Theo smiles, wrapping his arms around him, and kisses the top of his damp curls. “Don’t tell Thaddy, but I’m bringing you with me.” Damabiath giggles softly and nods, he smiles at the sound, and kisses the top of his head. “It’ll be our secret.”

The youngling giggles again for a moment. “Theo, I’m almost going to be released, right?”

He nods lightly. “Right, another week, and you’re good to go.”

Damabiath sighs softly. “Did you guys find me a new guardian, then.” His tone has taken a sadder note, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the elder, they’ve both grown quite attached to each other. “Am I gonna leave altogether and never see you again.”

“Well, we _have_ found you a new guardian.” He tightens his grip when the younger presses closer, as though savoring the embrace as though it was his last one, and he kisses the top of his head again.

“Will…..Will I like them, do you think?”

Theo chuckles softly. “Well, I should hope you like me.”

The youngling stiffens for a moment at that statement. “You?”

“Yes, me, we talked about it, I’ve grown quite attached to you and those armpits, and I just couldn’t bare to see the both of you leave me.” He carefully moves his hand and wiggles a finger in his armpit lightly, the youth giggles wildly, and immediately throws his arm down. “I can’t live in a world where I don’t get to have these armpits.”

Damabiath giggles brightly. “You’re a tickle monster, papa.”

“Darn right, I am.” He spins them around, reaching over the younglings head for his spare cloak on the coat rack to the side of his desk, and pulls away to wrap it around the youngling, pulling the hood up over his head. “We’ve got to bundle you up before we go anywhere, they’re calling for rain, and it’s chilly, you’re not spending your first week with me as mine while you’re grumpy and sick.”

“I’m not grumpy when I’m sick.”

“Don’t forget who took care of you last time you were sick.” He clasps the cloak together, around his neck, and pokes him on the nose. “I know from first hand experience that you _do_ get grumpy when you’re sick.”

“I might get a little grumpy, but that’s only because I don’t like being sick!”

Theo chuckles softly, reaching for his own cloak, and then Thaddeus’s, because he’s an idiot, knows it’s supposed to rain, and forgot it. “No one likes being sick, dandelion.” He curls his arm around the younglings shoulders, after he pulls his cloak over his head, and turns them around towards the door. “If anyone asks, tell’em I released you early.”

Damabiath giggles lightly. “Okay, papa!”

They make their way down the hall silently, looking in on the prisoners eating their hefty servings of supper, and he looks down when the little guy at his side tugs on his cloak. “Papa, I haven’t had supper yet.”

He smiles, rubbing his arm lightly. “I’m sure Raph can scrounge you up something, I think we’re eating a bit early actually, so I believe they’ll be serving supper to the patients just around the time we get there.”

Thaddeus turns to them as they approach, and his eyes immediately zone in on the youngling drowning in his younger brother’s spare clock, shaking his head in exasperation as he looks up to his Co-Warden. “Theo, why isn’t Dama in his cell?”

Damabiath smiles. “He’s releasing me early!”

The Warden levels a look on his Co-Warden. “Theo, you can’t do that, he has to stay in his cell for the entire duration of his sentence.”

“There’s no rule that says that.”

Thaddeus stares at him, opens his mouth to say something, closes it once more, and crosses his arms as he tilts his head. “I……There……God, I hate you, Theo.” He rubs a hand over his face. “Have I ever told you how much I _hate_ it when you’re right?” Groaning, he nods, taking his cloak from his Co-Warden’s out stretched hand. “There isn’t a rule that says that, but, I’ll make one.” He sticks his tongue out at them playfully and Damabiath giggles. “See what you do then?” He points a finger at the giggling youngling. “Watch it, mister, I know all about those armpits too. I’ll fill out your paperwork tomorrow when we come back. Congrats, you’re a free man.” He raises an eyebrow. “Dama, where are your boots?”

The youngling points over his shoulder. “In my cell.”

Both Wardens turn to look down the hall, his cell is so far away, and honestly, neither of them feel like walking back there to get them.

Theo turns, lifting the small youngling off his feet, pulling him up to rest on his hip. “We don’t feel like going back down there, I’ll just carry you.”

Thaddeus points a finger at him. “Good thinking,” he pulls the hood of his cloak up and turns, waving over his shoulder. “Come on, you two trouble makers, it’s about supper time in the Infirmary and I’m starving.”

The Co-Warden smiles in amusement and the youngling on his hip giggles softly, leaning against his shoulder as they follow after the Warden, he pulls the hood of his cloak up over his head as Thaddeus pulls the right door open, and just as he’d said, it was raining cats and dogs, lightning flashing across the sky, a true storm.

Damabiath leans in closer, trying to take in some of his new guardian’s body heat, and Theo pulls him in as close as he can get him.

A sparse few people are running through the storm to get back to their warm welcoming cottages, but other then them, the Axis is empty. It’s not a long walk from the Prison to the Infirmary, but to him it seems to take forever, perhaps that’s because his feet aren’t covered by the cloak he’s wearing and the rains cold against them, but they reach the Healer’s domain in a few lifetimes (minutes), and take the stairs up slowly, in case they’re slippery from the rain.

The doors are still open, light from the inside spilling out to the outside, and a wall of warmth hits him as they make their way through the entrance.

Gadreel and Abner are sitting up in bed, waiting for their turn to get their supper, whispering to each other.

“I see you’ve returned with extra cargo.” The three of them turn at the Archangel’s voice, coming up on their right, charts tucked under his arm. “I saw two leave, and now three return.”

Raphael smiles at them, humming as he looks down at the pale feet hanging under the navy blue cloak the youngling is wearing, and reaches down to grab one. “You’re feet are freezing, why aren’t you wearing any shoes?”

Damabiath giggles softly. “I left them in my cell and Thaddy and Theo said they didn’t feel like going back down to get them, so Theo carried me.”

The Archangel snorts. “Lazy bums.”

“It’s a living.” Thaddeus laughs when he reaches out to smack him and jumps back. “I’m just sayin’!”

The Healer shakes his head, but he’s smiling, and turns back to the youngling. “I thought you had another week before you were released?”

The youngling nods. “Theo said he was releasing me early.”

He turns to the Warden. “He can do that?”

Thaddeus glares at his Co-Warden and Theo smiles at him in a way to portray innocence. “There’s no rule against it.”

Raphael actually laughs and turns his attention to the smirking Co-Warden. “Good one.” He nods at the youngling. “I’ll get you a pair of wool socks to warm your feet up.”

Damabiath smiles and thanks him softly, and he returns his smile, telling him he’s most welcome, and steps ahead of them.

Thaddeus curls his arm around his lower back. “So, wise one, when’s supper, I’m famished.”

The Healer laughs again, curling his arm around the Warden's shoulders. “In another few minutes, you made it just in time.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Here, give me those feet.” Damabiath giggles as he raises his feet, sticking them in the wool socks held out to him, giggling again when the Archangel squeezes his feet. “Good, now get back under those blankets.” The youngling giggles as he quickly crawls back under the blankets, leaning back against his guardians chest, his hands resting on his thighs lightly. “Good boy, supper will be around in another couple minutes.”

“Okay, Raph,” he smiles up at the Archangel. “Thanks for the socks.”

Raphael smiles down at him. “You’re most welcome, little one, stay under those blankets, we want you to stay warm.”

Theo curls his arms around his waist. “I’ll make sure he stays nice and toasty.”

The Healer smiles at him. “See that you do.” He leaves them after that, to see to his other patients, promising to be back.

He smiles down at the boy sitting between his legs, wiggling his fingers in his sides, making him giggle and squirm. “I’ll make you stay nice and toasty.”

“Papa! Papa, stop! Stoppit!” The youngling squirms from side to side, batting at his hands, but he’s uninhibited. “Papa! Not fair! Not fair!”

Chuckling, Theo wraps his arms around him and pulls him close. “No, me going after those armpits would be unfair, me wrapping my legs around you, like so,” he curls his legs around the youth’s legs to keep him from kicking. “Raising your arm just like this,” he curls his fingers through the youngling’s and slowly lifts his arm, leaning back against the pillows. “Taking this finger,” He raises the index finger of his right hand, smiling at the steady giggles pouring from his youngling. “Poking it in this armpit like so,” he pokes his finger in. “And, wiggling it just like this.” He wiggles his finger and Damabiath squeals, tugging on his captive hand, kicking his feet, seeing as his legs are his captives at the moment, Theo chuckles in his ear. “It’s still just as adorable to me as it was when I first learned just how ticklish your little armpits are, I’m not even being too rough, I’m just wiggling my finger lightly, and you’re an absolute mess.”

“EEEIEAIAIIAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA AAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA AAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHHAAHAA NOHOHOHOHOHOHOOHOO PAHAHAHAHAPAPAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOOO! EEIEIAEIIAAIAAHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA AAHAHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAAA NOHOHOHOHOOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHHERE NOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHERE AAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA EEIEIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE AHAHAHAHHAARMPITS! NOHHOHOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEE AHAHAHAHHAHARMPIHIHIHIHIHITS EEIEIAIIAAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA AAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAAA AAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAA GEHEHEHEHEHHEET IHIHIHIHIHIT OHOHOHOHOHOUT PAHAHAHAHAPAAPAAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA GEHEHEEHHEHEET IHIHIHIHIHIT OHOHOHOHOHOUT! PLEHEHEHEHEHEEASE! EEIEIAIIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA AAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA PLEEHEHEHHEHEHHEHEHHEEASE!”

“Theo, you knock it off.” Damabiath has never been more thankful for an interruption by an Archangel before in his entire life. “Now is not the time to be torturing little Dama’s armpits, now is the time to eat supper, if you want to torture them when you’re done, then be my guest.” The Healer laughs softly at the betrayed glare the little angel gives him for his last remark. “I’m sorry, Dama, but those little armpits can be irresistible sometimes.”

“Jerk.”

Raphael hums softly. “What was that?”

“You’re the greatest Archangel!”

He nods, shaking his head fondly. “That’s what I thought you said.” He leans over holding out two plates, the others having already been given their meal, and they both thank him softly as they take them from him. “You’re most welcome, I’ll be back with some hot cocoa in a bit.” He winks playfully at the youngling. “Because it’s a special occasion after all.”

The youngling smiles up at him and leans back against his new guardian’s chest, picking at his supper, ham, potatoes, and green beans. He sets their beverages down on the side table next to them.

“Theo,” he swallows his mouthful of potatoes and looks up at the man he’s leaning against. “What if you regret it?”

“What if I regret what?”

Damabiath moves the green beans around on his plate. “Taking me in as your ward?”

“I’ve been considering this for a long time, since the first time I met you, and I didn’t even know how ticklish those armpits were at the time either,” he rubs his shoulder lightly. “I couldn’t find anything to regret then, and I don’t see anything now.”

The youth smiles up at him. “You mean it?”

Theo smiles down at him. “I do, why are you so insecure all of a sudden?”

“It’s just…” he looks down at his plate, and takes another bite when his hand is lifted by the other’s. “The others say that no one will want me because I’m weird.”

“How long have they been bullying you?”

The youth turns quickly, eyes wide. “What—No—No they’re not—”

“Damabiath, you know just as well as I do that telling you no one would want you, is classified as bullying, so how long?”

He bites his lip. “Since the beginning.”

“Damabiath,” he flinches at the scolding tone. “Why didn’t you ever say anything, you know we don’t tolerate that kind of behavior.” The youth merely shrugs and the Co-Warden sighs deeply, shaking his head fondly, leaning over to take his plate, he was clearly done eating, and he’d finished a better portion of it, and sets them on the bedside table, before settling back into place and wrapping him in his arms tightly. “Whatever am I going to do with you?”

“Probably torture my armpits endlessly now.”

“Darn right, I am.” He worms his fingers under his arms and digs in, Damabiath squeals and arches his back, trying to pull out of his arms, though his grip remains solid as ever. “Now, they’re going to be tortured extra bad, because you never told me about this concerning situation.”

“Theo,” Abner taps on his arm and he looks over at him. “I wanna help too.”

Damabiath squeals at the thought of supposed help, not liking the way Theo laughs, and then he’s being manhandled around, his top half laying over his guardian’s lap and his lower half laying over Abner’s his feet resting in Thaddeus’s lap, whom he can only hope is too distracted by Gadreel to notice the feet resting in his lap, open and ripe for the taking.

He squeals, when a finger wiggles between his fourth and fifth toe, and realizes, that, no, he is not too distracted to notice the feet resting in his lap.

“Okay, baby brother, you get his thighs, these armpits are all mine.” He shakes his head desperately when Abner curls his right hand around his knee, and pulls his leg back slightly, giving him easier access to the sensitive inside, and when Theo slowly raises his right arm, the left trapped between them. “Get him good, Ab, he needs to be punished.”

As he squeals and cackles under the onslaught of vicious tickles, he comes to a realization, Damabiath decides that this is probably going to be his life now, seeing as how his guardian is a tickle monster, and the closest thing he has to an uncle is a tickle monster too.

…

“No, I don’t think so.” Thaddeus yelps when someone grabs the back of his hood and tugs him back, nearly stumbling over, had it not been for the body behind him keeping him in place, somewhat. “You’re not going anywhere, neither one of you.”

Damabiath smiles at the Archangel from over Theo’s shoulder. “Why not?”

Raphael smiles at him and winks playfully, something of which makes him giggle softly, and tugs Thaddeus back under his arm. “It’s still raining cats and dogs, the temperature dropped during the night, and I don’t care how waterproof you think your cloaks are, _I’m_ not letting you leave until the weather clears.”

“But, Raph,” The Warden turns, tugging his hood out of his grasp, the concern for his prisoners shining in his eyes. “I need to be with my prisoners, they need me.”

“They understand, I sent word to Sabaoth, he’s staying there until the weather passes too, so they’ll be well taken care of, if I remember correctly, he’d said the Powers had joined him, they all know them, they’ll be taken care of rather well until you return.”

He stares at the Archangel. “You swear?”

The Archangel smiles at him. “Come now, you know I don’t lie.”

“God, Raph,” Thaddeus loops his arm around the Healer’s lower back as he’s turned back around. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably be found lying dead in a gutter somewhere.”

“Oh, ha ha!”

Damabiath finds it to be absolutely hilarious and Thaddeus glares at him from over his shoulder as he laughs his little heart out.

…

Gadreel doesn’t say much, Thaddy says he’s just up for talking right now, and translates for him when he uses sign language to communicate, he insults Sampson at every chance he gets and Gadreel absolutely lights up, and soon they’re having an insult war, and Thaddeus is laughing so hard that he’s struggling to sign for him.

Damabiath smiles when a new one comes to the forefront of his mind. “Sampson so gross, he’s the personification of a flaming pile of dog shit.”

Gadreel cackles, curling his arms around his belly as he leans forward, Thaddeus buries his face in his hands as his laughter gets the best of him, and he yelps when someone smacks him over the back of the head, Theo and Abner are in the washroom, so that leaves….He turns to meet Raphael’s glare. “Don’t you ever let me hear you using that kind of language again.”

Thaddeus just manages to get his laughter under control.

The youth nods firmly. “Okay, sorry, Sampson’s so gross, he’s the personification of a flaming pile of dog shite.”

Thaddeus loses it again when he sees the Archangel’s expression.

…

Damabiath groans, freshly bathed after scrubbing the floor in the Archangel’s office for the better part of the afternoon, his arms are sore, and he decides that he hates his life, except meeting Theo, he likes that part, and collapses face first over his guardian and honorary older brother’s laps.

Theo chuckles softly and rubs his lower back soothingly. “How was it?”

He glares at the man from over his arm before pressing his face back into Abner’s thigh. “I hate you.”

“Do you really, though?”

He’s silent for a long moment. “No.” His face heats up when both him and Abner laugh. “Never mind, I changed my mind.”

He hums when he feels fingers scratching at his head, Abner tugs on his ear lightly. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“He gave me a bucket and a brush and told me to _‘have at it’_.”

“He could have made you scrub the floor out here.” Abner yelps when the brat pinches his thigh. “I think you need some help relaxing.” Damabiath isn’t sure he likes the implications of the tone he’s using. “Turn around and raise your arms.”

“Um, no thank you.”

The sentry tugs on his curls lightly. “I’m not going to go for your armpits.”

“I might.”

“Theo won’t go for your armpits either.” He tugs on the boy’s curls again. “Your arms must be sore, raise them and we’ll rub them for you.”

Damabiath looks between them both critically. “No sneak attacks?”

They both shake their heads. “No sneak attacks.”


End file.
